


Truth

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27897748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: A new medication has some unexpected side effects.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Kudos: 10





	Truth

In the early days of Sherman T. Potter’s tenure at MASH 4–O double natural, the army medical corps, in its very finite wisdom, decided to debut a new malaria drug. The initial bottle dosed (thankfully) just six people: a nurse named Ashman, a corpsman named Lighet, Tolford, an ambulance driver, McFadden from the motor pool, Major Winchester, and Corporal O’Reilly. 

Trouble began with Ashman, who dramatically fainted, then woke to belt out the themes from several  _ years _ of Broadway musicals. To make matters worse, the typical sedatives that would have ended her musical debut were contraindicated. “Just don’t let her near the PA,” Sherman hollered at attending physician Hunnicutt. “It’ll wear off and we’ll have a good laugh about it, later. Her voice ain’t too bad. And keep an eye on the others in case this ain’t a fluke!” 

It wasn’t a fluke. 

Lighet became obsessed with a mythical fish he’d failed to catch as a boy. Thankfully, he didn’t make for the river, but for the Cook’s largest pot, where, with a celery stick and a bit of string, he waited determinedly for his monster. 

“I know you don’t want a cuckoo bird in your kitchen,” Hawk said to their very sardonic master of mealtime. “But if he’s here, he’s not hurting himself. Just make sure he stays put.” 

Tolford and McFadden simply got sleepy under the drug’s effects; their bunkmates were assigned to keep watch in case the side effects were late-blooming. 

Radar O’Reilly proved a very humorous case. Or he would have if he wasn’t so  _ fast.  _ The kid Corporal with the coke bottle frames had decided, somewhere along the way, that he was a superhero. He now treated every man, woman, and guinea pig he came in contact with as if they, too, were part of a comic book. Some were spies and some were villains he was determined to outmaneuver… which left Potter, Pierce, and Hunnicutt chasing him through the compound. He’d also forwarded a message to Colonel Flagg about Captain America! 

While this was going on, Major Winchester was quite forgotten (surely that blue and superior blood of his, Hunnicutt joked, would render him immune anyway). When the trio of caretakers saw him on their return, however, they gasped in unison. Balanced very gently on the Bostonian’s lap was Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger, skirt tastefully arranged, one of Charles’ huge hands at his waist - and his long throat was being very enthusiastically kissed. 

“Klinger! What in the name of Secretariat’s fleet-footed dam are you up to?” his CO thundered. 

“I know I’ve said this to you before, oh Commander with the healthy lungs, but this one really isn’t my fault.”

“I don’t think he’s lying,” BJ said, indicating Winchester’s unyielding grip. “The medicine, you know? Want us to get you down, Klinger?”

“Sir, I can get down fine.” He placed his saddle shoes on the hardwood and disentangled himself. “But you’re not gonna like what happens when I do.” 

A very much drugged-out-of-his-mind Winchester looked befuddled for a moment, then he teared up, tearing at his now-empty arms. Klinger stalled this violence with a touch. “See?” he asked the assembled physicians. “I tried ta get him back to bed, but he gets kinda wild.”

Winchester murmured throughout, a monologue that sounded Shakespearian in delivery but made precious little sense. Hawk grinned. “So, instead of the camp whipping boy, you made yourself the camp kissing girl?” Winchester’s mouth was back at work. 

“Lad, we’ll come up with something,” Potter began, ignoring Pierce - but then he saw the eyes of his pretty Corporal. Max Klinger, it seemed, might want one thing on Earth even more than he wanted to go home to Toledo. 

“It’s okay, Colonel. He’s gotta get tired soon. Just tell these other sirs not to razz him too bad, after, okay? It’s not his fault.” 

Potter shook his head admiringly. “You got that?” he asked the remainder of the Swamp Rats. “Call it an order.”

“Yes, sir,” they murmured with faux meekness and real disappointment. 

“Alright, then. We’ll shut the door so Winchester doesn’t get more embarrassed than he’s like to already be. One of you check on him every hour or so - Klinger’s going to need help getting him back to his bunk.” 

“Oh, I dunno,” Hawk joked. “Looks like the Major might go anywhere with you, Klinger.”  _ Not to mention  _ **_all the way_ ** . 

“Go check on your other case,” Potter told him. To Max he said only, “Carry on.” 

Klinger did so happily and when BJ cautioned him not to let Charles get too over-amorous, Klinger laughed. “His arms are pretty noodly, sir. I think I’m safe.” 

*** 

For the next  _ nine hours _ , Klinger held his perch, lips more or less locked with those of a demanding Major who made kissing into a full on symphony with rests and repeated measures. Klinger just aimed to keep the man comfortable, stroking his arms or his hair when Charles grew agitated, covering him with a blanket when he grew chilled. And if he quietly praised the hell out of him and his beautiful eyes, well there was no one around to hear - and Charles was way too doped up to remember. 

As ordered, Pierce and Hunnicutt routinely checked on their comrade (two nurses had corralled Radar in the obstacle course, where he was breaking records - shirtless), checking vital signs and becoming increasingly impressed with Klinger. 

“You know he’s going to kill you when that drug wears off,” Hunnicutt told the slender Corporal. 

“I can run pretty fast, sir.”  _ And if you gotta go in a war zone - this, Major baby, is the way to do it.  _

Hawkeye’s comments centered more on how  _ he  _ might benefit from the attentions Max seemed so willing to lavish on Winchester. “I’m putting you in for the Purple Lips, Corporal,” he teased, “a medal commending service above and beyond the chin.”

Max just kept kissing. 

“I’ll be nicer to you than Charles, here,” Pierce bargained. “He says all that awful stuff to you.” 

The Major could be hurtful as hell, Klinger knew, but he loved to listen to the other man, even at his most insulting. He loved that voice. This, however, was  _ not  _ ammunition he intended to cede to the Captain. 

Potter just shook his head at the Corporal. The young man had already outlasted the first two rounds of bets he and the sober portion of his surgical team had made. “Gotta be a record,” he murmured to himself, chuckling. He’d tried something similar with a French gal once, but they hadn’t stuck to kissing! 

In the last hour of what was known thereafter as Klinger’s kiss-a-thon, BJ looked to his best friend to ask, “Think we oughta run an IV?”

“For Winchester?”

“For Klinger. His blood sugar’s got to be low.” 

Hawk just smiled. He couldn’t prove it - yet - but he thought that Max Klinger might have all the sweetness he could want. 

***

Charles Emerson Winchester III woke in his own bunk with an aching neck, swollen lips, and company. 

“Max? What are you doing here?”

Klinger held a cup of water to his lips before answering. “Morning, Major. You had a bad reaction to that drug the other day. I was keeping an eye on you is all.”  _ Really more of a mouth…  _ he touched his swollen lips and hoped Charles didn’t notice them, to say nothing of the early morning stirrings going on beneath his skirt. 

Winchester looked predictably stricken. “What happened? What did I do? Say?” 

“Nothin’ nobody’s gonna hassle you about,” Klinger reassured him, missing the drugs that had allowed him to stroke the Major’s arms, to rub his back. “You were high class all the way, sir.” 

“You won’t tell me?”

“I’m not a doctor, sir. I’m sure one of the Captains’ll walk you through it. Lemme go tell ‘em you’re back to your old self again.” 

Charles watched him go, a hand resting in the warmth Max had created by laying at his side. Even coming down from a drug, Winchester knew they didn’t assign a 24-hour nurse to anyone at the 4077th unless something was really wrong. This wasn’t the Mayo Clinic. 

Pierce greeted his tentmate with a smile so bright it hurt Charles’ head. 

“Pierce! I realize that I rarely say this, but I find that I am very glad to see you. What happened?” 

“Nothing to worry you. The camp had a bad reaction to that drug, so we’re discontinuing its use, going back to what we know.” He checked his eyes, felt around his neck. The drug seemed to have cleared his system. 

“Pierce, I awoke to  _ a babysitter _ . Further, since it was a corpsman, I must assume that the nurses had their hands full.” His other guess was that the nurses liked him so little that they’d refused the duty. He and Maxwell were friends; it made sense that the Corporal would look after him. 

“You just ran your mouth off a bit - same as when you aren’t drugged.” But he wouldn’t meet Winchester’s pale, sparking eyes. 

“You are lying.”

“I never lie to people I don’t care about. Trust me, Chuckles. You want me to lie about this. It’s done with, you’re back on your feet - let’s just forget it.” 

“Pierce!”

“Charles, I’m saying this as a doctor and as your friend: leave it alone.” 

“It is as a doctor I am demanding to know,” Charles countered. “I have a right to my own medical history.” 

Pierce sighed. “Fine. But you don’t get to be mad at me. And don’t hurt Klinger, okay? His heart’s plenty banged up over you - he can’t take you yelling in that accent of yours right now.” 

“Klinger? What does Maxwell have to do with anything?”

Pierce explained. If he hadn't felt bad for the perpetually lonely man before him, it might have been fun to watch him change colors. 

“You did not put a stop to this?” Charles demanded when the doctor finished detailing his night. “The Colonel did not? You wanted me humiliated?”

“Nobody knows outside us,” Pierce assured him. “It could’ve been worse; Radar took him lumps in front of  _ everybody _ . Look, I saw it myself. Klinger tried to go and you fell apart.”  _ Besides, I don’t think he really wanted to. _

“You are telling me, and you expect me to believe it, that Potter excused him from work to  _ kiss me _ ?”

“More like to keep you from hurting yourself, I think.” He didn’t add just how impressed Potter had been with Klinger’s performance. “But, like I said, it’s done with.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us about Klinger and his skirts.”

Winchester just retreated under his pillow. His traitorous lips hurt. 

***

“How you holding up, son?” 

“Whaddaya mean, Colonel?”

Potter rested a hand on a thin shoulder. “It’s okay to grieve, Klinger.” He nodded at the handkerchief near at hand. “You had a nice thing.”

“You don’t think…” his voice grew very small. “You don’t think it’s stupid of me, sir? Somebody that high class?” 

“I never would have picked a stupid gal to type my reports, Klinger. And his money and his blue blood didn’t have anything to do with it, did they?”

“No, sir. Just… him.” He sighed. “Hurts, you know? Colonel, what I feel about him… it’s more than I even felt about Laverne. About anyone.” This was an awed whisper. 

“I know it, son. You take your time and mourn it proper - one day you’ll be able to look back and smile. In the meantime, don’t cry on that typewriter. It’ll freeze up on you.”

Klinger laughed through his tears. “Yes, sir!” 

***

Following his misadventures with the army’s drug de jour, Charles felt a bit like a fairytale creature who had awakened to a very different world than the one in which he had fallen asleep. Potter kept giving him the sidelong glance he usually spared for soldiers brought down from battalion aid that could not be saved, but only made comfortable. It was a look, Charles suspected, that he also used for lamed horses who must be put down. BJ and Hawk kept giving him odd looks without saying anything. Teasing would have been preferable. 

And Max… 

Max was his friend. 

Had been his friend, at least - so good a friend, in fact, that he had _ kissed him _ , apparently, without rest or food  _ for hours _ . And now, Max couldn’t meet his eyes. 

He wanted to ask for help. It hadn’t been his fault - the effects of the drug - but it had seemingly changed everything, and he had no idea how to remedy it. 

Late one night, he phoned Boston. He had one ally, he knew, and she had never failed to steer him past the emotional rocks he tended to smash himself against. It would be humiliating, of course, to tell her about the mess he’d made - monopolizing the lips of the one man in Korea who was actually his friend - but maybe she could help him to make it right. 

She listened, the dear little sister he had once taken on his lap to read to, had pushed on a swing and watched with loving eyes, and then she tried to make him see sense. “Ch-Charles, love, your u-unit, it shares similarities with o-other hospitals, yes? I r-realize it is s-somewhat primitive, but there are b-beds, yes? D-drugs?”

“Of course.”

“Darling, in a  _ hospital environment  _ the b-best solution three t-talented surgeons, for even y-you admit they are uncommon talented, could c-come up with was  _ that _ !? They c-could not h-have restrained you? Sedated you? N-nine hours and they found  _ no r-remedy at all _ !?”

“It was a bit mad,” he suggested feebly. “I was scarcely their sole concern.” 

“Ch-Charles, are you telling me that y-your CO who served in both world wars o-ordered a Corporal to kiss you!? For n-nine hours? That  _ has _ to b-break regulations! So, allow us to g-get to what it is y-you’re really flustered about, my dear.”

“What on Earth might that be?” He sounded weak, she thought - meek, at least. Emotions had never been Charles’ strongest suit. 

“You’re up-upset you weren’t in your right mind enough to en-enjoy his kisses.” 

“Honoria!”

“Charles! Tell the d-damn truth! And once y-you manage that, you’d b-better go talk to him. No one kisses  _ anyone _ for n-nine hours unless they f-feel something.” 

“What makes you an expert on this, if one might be permitted to inquire?”

“ _ Wanting  _ to be l-loved enough to be k-kissed for nine hours, I suppose. Take good care of him, Ch-Charles. He did as m-much for you.” 

“Honoria, you understand the sort of man I am, yes?” 

“Clearly, if w-we are having this conversation,” she teased. 

“ _ Honoria! _ ”

“You mean the type who d-does absolutely  _ nothing  _ in a casual manner? Yes. B-bring him home, Charles. You m-more than have my blessing.” 

“You will love him.”

“He c-cared enough about y-your comfort to break his wh-whole heart over you, darling. I already do.” 

***

He waited until the camp was as quiet as it ever was. He wished Max’s eyes were less wary as he opened the door to his tent, but perhaps he deserved no better. 

“Hiya, Major.” 

“You sound tired.” 

It wasn’t actual weariness - just regret that this moment had arrived. Max wished he could jump over it and have it already done with, but he’d known his trespass would come with a price. “Don’t worry about me, sir.” 

“I feel that I ought to, my dear. You worried for me.” He held something out. 

Max took the metal tube, confused. “Sir?”

“Lip gloss. Yours wore off, I would think, rather early in our shared adventure. Vanilla, I think?”

Max blushed; the Major had  _ tasted him on his own kiss-bright mouth!  _ “Wedding cake,” he mumbled. 

“Ah. A proper choice for such an undertaking.” 

“Are you making fun of me, sir?” 

“Perish the thought. I wished to thank you. I am told you spared no thought for yourself in seeing to my comfort.” 

A sheepish smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “That’s not all the way true, sir. I wanted to kiss you.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Maxwell, you know that I have a sister, yes?”

“Honoria.”

“Yes. Well, she is far smarter than me. When I asked her advice, she suggested I tell you the truth of my feelings- as you had already made yours quite clear with your kisses. I am quite sorry I missed them.”

“You are?” 

“Yes. Perhaps you could consent to show me what I missed?” 

Max opened the lip gloss and applied it to a smiling mouth. When he turned his face up, Charles was smiling, too. 

End! 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


. 


End file.
